At least you'll look good
by J.Dax
Summary: Jack likes telling his team how to dress for the occasion even when only the fish will see them. Chap. 4: Jack's signature.
1. Sam's Sweater

Disclaimer: (waves hands in readers faces and uses the force to bend them to her will)"OwnStargate I do not, give me ownership you will...

I want to say I'm only barrowing the characters for a little while, but barrowing indicates a willingness to want to give what you've barrowed back, and who in their right minds would want togive back Daniel Jackson?

* * *

Sam Carter stood in her bedroom biting her lip and starring absently into her closet. SG-1 had been scheduled for a week's downtime by order of General O'Neill, a person whom she had vowed to herself yesterday to build a very technical and complicated weapon for and make him sit down and listen to every aspect of its ingenious dynamics before shooting him with it.

She had been planning to spend her downtime reconciling with her research on the alien technology that had been gathered the past few months. The best she had been able to do since her promotion and the addition of more pressing responsibilities was to fleetingly catalogue some of the most important looking things and pass them on to the civilian researchers in other labs.

But Jack was insistent that everyone needed to go fishing, that fishing was the most vital matter to attend to in the universe, and that any SGC personnel who did not take at least one day to go fishing in their time off should be shoved into an active wormhole that was about to suddenly disconnect.

Needless to say, earth's brilliantly intellectual flagship team concluded from this statement that their poor, overwrought commander should be sent to an isolated planet with no DHD and where there's lots of trees and rocks and fuzzy creatures that like to bite human ankles for entertainment.

However, upon consulting Walter Davis, it turned out that the paperwork for this notion would have lasted them each a decade, so a vote was taken and two of them ruled in favor of fishing over mutiny.

Teal'c, apparently, had some horrendously large issues when it came to sitting for hours on a dock casting lures into an empty lake and listening to O'Neill muttered some placating junk about the Zen of it all. Naturally, he ruled against, but was beaten by the majority.

Sam bounced down upon her bed next to an empty suitcase and wondered if it was too late to change her vote.

Her doohickeys missed her.

She could see their downcast sensors crying as she quickly walked in then back out of the lab with nothing but reports in her hand.

She heard their mechanical whines pleading with her to take them apart and reassemble them into a wonderful new machine that would save the galaxy from certain doom.

Sam was reaching for the phone when it suddenly rang.

She snatched it up, thinking that it was Daniel.

It normally happened that way. One of them was thinking the same thing as the other at the same time and it all depended on who could call whom the fastest.

The Anthropologist was probably going to tell her that his books were taking to him again and paperwork or not, he couldn't just abandon the darlings for another instant.

As it happened though, it was the General wanting to know how her packing was going.

"Fine, Sir" she mumbled.

"Carter, with that tone I wouldn't believe you even if you were telling the truth" came the reply.

"Did you really only call about the packing?" Sam responded, dropping the "Sir" which meant only one of two things: she was feeling especially affectionate towards him, or she was particularly frustrated and was scheming to have him professionally murdered.

Jack knew this and thought that either motive behind it was adorable coming from Carter and so continued doing whatever he was doing that caused that reaction, even if it meant a clean and precise homicide.

"Yes, I did, and I also wanted to tell you not to forget to bring that little red skirt with the flare at the bottom. You know, the one that matches that black shirt that looks like a tank top but has those cute oval straps that cover your shoulder and forearm"

Sam stood up and blinked a little.

She dwelled in an extensive silence before reaching into her closet and pulling out the outfit her CO had just described.

This type of behavior was not unnatural for Jack, he loved giving her clothing advice, but the articles she was now holding against her body and scrutinizing in the mirror were definitely not the kind someone would wear to a backwoods cabin on a fishing trip.

"Don't question it, Carter" Jack said through the phone, which was tucked between her ear and shoulder as she continued to display the outfit before herself.

Sam glared at her reflection, "If I may ask, Sir, when exactly would I have a chance to wear this?"

"When I ask you all to go into town for dinner and Daniel and Teal'c conveniently have other plans for the evening so it turns out that just you and me are up for it" he said.

This elicited a reluctant laugh from Sam as she folded the items and put them in her suitcase.

"Okay, now you need that Persian blue skirt that has the pockets with the white border and your jean jacket that matches it so well, then tell me if the green or white T-shirt looks better with it," Jack continued.

Sam put the phone on the bed while she collected the outfit and compared shirts, "The white T-shirt looks better," she noted to the upturned phone as she packed the things and returned to her closet.

"Good" Jack said, "Then you can wear the green one with those jeans that have the little swish at the ankle"

"_Swish?_" Sam quoted in amusement as she retrieved the jeans.

"Well, it isn't exactly a flare, but it's not tight and bunchy either…it's a nice, curvy, shape" he explained.

Sam studied the bottom leg of the pants and discovered that he was eerily correct, "Should I be worried that you know more about my wardrobe than I do?" she asked.

"No, you should be worried that there are some items in your wardrobe that I don't like and I want to take you shopping to replace them"

Sam picked up the phone and frowned as she went to inspect the rest of her closet, "Which items could you possibly dislike?"

Carter was not much for clothes; she had always been the studious, analytical type, even when she was a teenager and getting clothing what just something that had to be done. She had never paid much attention to what did and did not look good until O'Neill had seen her out of uniform for the first time and started giving critiques.

"Well, there's that blue cotton sweater that looks like a gift from someone's estranged grandmother who's living in Florida and only contacts them every Christmas so she can get rid of failed knitting projects" he said.

Sam moved apart some of her closets contents in order to scrutinize her light blue sweater with the one button, which happened to be one of her favorite items. It was comfortable and she liked to wear it whenever she was about to do something socially nerve wracking because it felt like a secure hug and gave her confidence.

She took it out and pouted at it.

"You wouldn't be saying those nasty things about this sweater if you knew what it did for me" she defended.

"Carter, I've seen you in it a thousand times…believe me, it does nothing for you…not that you need it to"

Sam took the phone away from her ear to narrow her eyes at it, "If it wasn't for this sweater" she began, "I would have never worked up the nerve last month to get out of my car in your driveway and make a fool of myself trying to talk to you about…some _issues_, and manage to keep it together when Kerry Johnson suddenly walked out of your house"

There was silence.

Which was good, because she wasn't finished.

"And a year ago, when we all got drunk at your place to celebrate Daniel's memory returning, and you and I woke up in a compromising position on your couch, the only reason I was able to stay over the rest of the morning and still look you in the face without turning seventy different colors was because I was wearing that sweater"

Jack made a noise on the other end of the line, as if he was getting ready to speak.

"And that incident with the fruit on PX3-840 that had you hallucinating for two days after we got home and you began confessing the wrong things to the wrong people until the entire base was teeming with rumors. The only way I was able to face the rest of the personnel and not lock myself in the lab waiting for everything to die down, was by wearing that sweater into work for a month."

Sam was about to mention another event in which the sweater had been her only security, but Jack cut her off.

"I love that sweater, it's absolutely fabulous on you, never throw it away" he coddled, albeit a bit monotonously.

Sam smiled indulgently and packed the sweater, just in case this vacation proved to have a few awkward moments.

"Now, I think you can handle I from here Carter. Just don't pack anything that I wouldn't…pack…for you…"

Sam smirked as she envisioned the glazed over expression on his face as he tried to work out that sentence.

"Anyway, I better call Daniel before he decides that matching those beige slacks with his plaid vest is a good idea"


	2. Capuccino bribe

"No"

"Yes"

"No"

"Yes"

"_NO"_

"_YES"_

"Jack, I'm hanging up." Daniel grumbled into his home phone as he paced his bedroom in front of an empty suitcase, which had been shoved off his desk onto the floor earlier in a one-minute tantrum.

He had known since yesterday that his vote to go on the fishing trip instead of bother with the hassle of sending Jack to a deserted planet was going to turn his allotted downtime into a tedious week of boredom and guilt, the result of which were frequent fits that Dr. Jackson had gotten in the habit of having whenever Jack imposed his outrageous personality upon him.

The boredom came when he remembered there was absolutely nothing to do at Jack's cabin except for sitting by the lake and playing Homicide with Teal'c, a game that was their own elaborated version of Clue, but whoever lost had to attempt to kill Jack in whatever way the perpetrator in the game had ended up doing it to the victim.

It was twisted fun in its own way, because Jack had no idea how many times he'd come close to almost getting whacked in the kitchen with a candlestick by Teal'c wearing a Mrs. Peacock gown.

But even carving knives, Colonel Mustard, and billiard rooms lost their appeal after a while.

The guilt would emerge from all the hours Daniel was inevitably going to waste playing that game of the mentally unstable when he could be doing research or going on some digs around his own home planet.

The Archeologists simply could not remove the sound of his lonely books from his mind as he locked up his office at the SGC for the week. They pleaded with him by flipping their pages back and forth as he did some tidying here and there before shutting off the lights. The words written on every piece of their ancient paper fluttered up and around the room spelling out messages of longing to him, expressing their desire to be read for eternal days on end.

Daniel whimpered as he paused in his pacing to afford a moment of reverent silence towards the poor, neglected babies.

He had tried to call Sam that morning to change yesterday's fatal vote but the line had been occupied by the man whose sole purpose in life during his downtime was to make sure his former teammates were properly attired for the adventurous sport of casting fishing lures into a lake that hadn't seen a catch worthy creature since Jack had pushed Daniel into it last Summer.

"Daniel, if you hang up on me I'll kidnap your collection of 17th Century exploratory logs and stuff them into a sea worthy crate that is booked for a ride on the next wave of the California coast"

Daniel whimpered again, "I hate you" he sniffed bitterly.

"I am to delighted to hear that for the twentieth time this month, seventy-second time this year, and eleven thousand, eight hundred, and sixty fourth time in the whole decade I've known you" Jack tallied in response, "Now you are going to pack that light brown button up shirt with the beige Dockers, and for the last time, YES YOU WILL WEAR IT"

Daniel muttered curses to himself in an old, Arabian dialect as he yanked out the two items and tossed them in a rebellious manner into his suitcase before sitting down on his bed to mope.

"Good boy" Jack cooed derisively, "I promise I'll buy you a huge supply of your favorite cappuccino once we get to Minnesota"

Daniel perked reluctantly at this statement, "With the caramel melt whipped topping and cinnamon bakery spices?" he asked hopefully.

"Yea, and those little chocolate ships you like"

"Okay" Danny replied, suddenly all affection and snuggly attitude at the mere mention of his favorite caffeine treat.

When it came to coffee, Daniel was like a fluffy cat: he would pounce around stubbornly with his head in the air if you commanded him to do something he didn't like, but wave a cup of fresh java under his nose and he'll be purring to do your bidding for the rest of the day.

"But we have to go to Minnesota before we can get coffee, and we have to pack before we can leave for Minnesota" Jack reminded him, "So get out that linen fabric t-shirt with the gray stitching and those white jean shorts"

Daniel obeyed willingly now that he had an image of frothy, swirling, liquid bliss in his mind.

"And the violet shirt with those dressy slacks, the ones Lt. Manson gave you as thanks for helping her make Dr. Finchmen jealous enough to finally ask her out"

Daniel studied the pants he held, "That's where I got these?"

Jack sighed, "Daniel, the fact that I remember the story behind a product of your exploits with a red headed rocket, who is so hot she can melt snow just by standing in it, with more clarity than you is simply against every code of male nature"

Daniel thought for a moment, but all he recalled of the incident with Lt. Manson was some surface flirting to motivate the man of her affections into taking action. Not to deny that the Lieutenant was beautiful, but Daniel saw no reason why him having done a favor for a friend should be a prominent memory.

"Sadly, I have no time to remind you just how oblivious you are to the female species even though seventy percent of them are more than aware of you. Teal'c's having a hard time choosing hats" Jack said, "If I find anything plaid in your luggage when I do a preliminary check before we leave this afternoon you can forget the cappuccinos"


	3. Use the Force

"O'Neill, I do not believe that that combination of clothing is suitable for me" Teal'c commented as he starred at a pair of tight Levis set neatly below a black weave sweater and matching cap upon his bed.

Normally, the Jaffa went curiously along with whatever Jack suggested he wear while on earth; this habit had developed when Teal'c had first arrived on the planet of the Tau'ri and had little knowledge of their customs. Not wanting to be conspicuous when leaving the base for the first time and going among civilians, he had implored O'Neill for help.

But ever since his very first fishing trip, Teal'c had been adamant never to go again, and so now, whenever Jack wrangled him into yet another trip to Minnesota, the Jaffa tried to be as difficult as possible in the hours before their departure. This meant doing his best to argue the General's packing advice.

"Trust me, T, it works for you" came the reply.

Unfortunately, Teal'c's dominating personality trait was subtlety and Jack's most dominant personality trait was ignorance, so the fierce warrior was never able to frustrate the man into not wanting to bring him along.

"I suppose" was Teal'c's reluctant response.

The Jaffa was looking forward to only one event on this vacation…playing Homicide with Daniel Jackson.

"Great. Now get out that Simpson's T-shirt I bought you and you can wear it with the Darth Vader shorts you love so much"

If Teal'c were a lesser Jaffa, he would have taken his staff weapon and disintegrated the phone at this suggestion and then built a bonfire for the offending articles of clothing. Sadly, Teal'c was simply much too honorable to loose his temper in such a manner.

If Bray'tac were there he would have an obscene thing or two to say about that crumbled excuse.

The warrior wondered what Master Yoda would do…

_Use the force, you must_

…came the response.

Teal'c found that the knowledge he had gleaned from numerous Star Wars marathons helped him remain peaceable in dealings with Jack, although he worried that too many games of Homicide might detour more on the path of the Dark Side.

Teal'c obeyed the little green man's voice in his head and began to wave his fingers at the phone, whispering, "You do not wish to bring Teal'c along on this venture, O'Neill…"

But again, his attempts of escaping fate failed.

Funny how he always managed to untangle himself from disasters off world, when it came to life and death (or death and certain, irreversible, torturous destruction on a galactic level), and angry System Lords who had deemed him among twenty of the Universe's Most Wanted, a list in which he ranked third, right after George Lucas for copy write infringement (apparently Lord Yu had decided he was Luke Skywalker and Lucas owed him money for the making of his biography).

And our very own Dr. Daniel Jackson for the offense of looking nine degrees sexier than is allowed without any applicable effort (Ba'al had set the legal limit on a scale of Average to Sexiest, Daniel's recent rating was Demigod).

But when it came to avoiding disasters on earth, such as Minnesota and Fishing trips (or Simpson's reruns and Hockey), and an adamant General O'Neill who was determined that every member of his team required regular injections of what he considered "fun", the Jaffa could never formulate an effective escape

"What was that, T?" Jack asked.

Teal'c frowned, "I was not speaking, O'Neill"

"Yes, well, we'll have to work on your sarcasm skills this trip"

Teal'c's eyebrow went up.

"Don't give me that look," Jack said.

"How is any expression I have in response to your part of our conversation even effective enough to earn such a rebuke if you are not here to witness it?" Teal'c asked.

"That's…not important"

Teal'c knew that his friend was currently mouthing the words of the Jaffa's last inquiry to himself as he tried to filter it into terms he could understand.

"Just…Pack that flannel shirt and those biker shorts that Carter thinks you look good in"

Teal'c completed this task, hoping that there was a chance Colonel Carter and Dr. Jackson were in the middle of changing their votes, giving him one last option of not having to spend another score of downtime with Jack.

O'Neill seemed to have developed a skill of mind reading, because of the next sentence he uttered, "Don't even think about it, I promised Daniel cappuccinos and Carter my retirement"

Teal'c did his best imitation of glaring daggers.

"And don't forget, NO CELL PHONES…if there is one piece of technology that deals in communications with the outside world you are spending every weekend under cabin arrest…I will personally pay for you to fly out to Minnesota every week and keep you there until Monday" Jack threatened.

Teal'c did his impression again.

"Have to go, latter T"


	4. Unofficial documents

(A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. I'm thinking of making this the last chapter though. It seems like a good ending. Unless you guys think you might want more.)

* * *

"We still have a little time to change our votes"

Daniel suggested as Sam walked back into her living room with three cups of coffee balancing on a tray.

"The General will be here in five minutes, that's barely enough time to have Walter put in a request for the paper work," replied Sam while taking a seat next to Teal'c on the couch.

What Daniel couldn't understand was why Jack even wanted him and Teal'c to go, Sam was the only one who enjoyed it and Jack always made an effort to weasel the other two out of group activities in order to spend time alone with her. It would be much easier just to leave them behind.

Then again, Jack had this psychotic lenience towards deriving pleasure from the suffering of his closest friends, and God forbid that he ever be deprived of a single incident from which he could navigate an opportunity for torturing them.

"Colonel Carter is correct" Teal'c said, "However, if we were to call Sergeant Davis and have him send for the forms now, once we returned to work he would have them ready to process and we would be able to get rid of O'Neill, therefore avoiding any further orders to spend downtime with him"

Daniel nodded eagerly at this notion, "Can we do that, Sam, please, can we do that?" he begged bouncing on the chair he was lounging in and nearly spilling his coffee.

Sam shook her head, "Sorry boys, the General promised me the level 23 labs after we get back. I need his signature"

"You don't need Jack to get his signature" Daniel replied, "How do you think I got authorization to last month to go with SG-5 to the Goa'uld infested KE1-6589 just so I could study that magnificent Persian temple that the natives had built"

Both Sam and Teal'c starred at their serene companion.

"You forged the General's signature to get approval for an off world mission?" Sam asked disbelievingly.

"Was that not the planet of which you and O'Neill had been arguing about for weeks precluding your departure, Daniel Jackson?" Teal'c added.

"Yea, the whole base heard you two yelling at each other, didn't anyone think it was suspicious when you suddenly got the okay?"

"Oh, C'mon, this is SG-5 we're talking about…four fresh cut military personnel and every one of them has allergies and a rich academic background, they've been here three years and they're still finding booby traps in their lockers" Daniel answered in a tone that suggested he was highly pleased with himself for his cunning.

Sam and Teal'c exchanged glances.

"Hey, Daniel" Sam began, facing him again, "There's this heavy metal element on PL7-984, I haven't been able to convince the General of it's importance despite my extremely detailed and comprehensive report, but if I could get written permission to collect samples…"

"Have the documents on my desk next week" Daniel said, "Anything you'd like Teal'c?"

"I believe that a broader selection of frozen deserts in the cafeteria would be most beneficial to the welfare of SGC personnel" the Jaffa responded.

Sam wanted to know just how many times Daniel had exploited this advantageous skill of his.

"Well, there was that requisition for thirteen hundred water balloons about two months ago. The ones we used to declare war on SG-3 after they poured pudding down my shirt and insulted Sam for being in the Air Force"

The Colonel grinned devilishly, remembering how the entire lower section of the base had been dripping with water and bits of colorful rubber balloon. And the satisfying image of those machine gun marines staggering and slipping their way to the infirmary in sopping wet clothes.

Teal'c remembered Jack's bewildered face when he had seen the result of the mess they had made.

He had slowly taken in the scene…

Carefully made his way towards a bone-dry SG-1…

Onlookers looked nervously at each other…

Sam bit her lip, Daniel gazed around at nothing trying to find something to gaze at, Teal'c stood rigidly at attention forcing back an uncharacteristic laugh.

"Carter" Jack began casually upon reaching them, "Just because someone accidentally sends us an al'kesh load of water balloons, it does not mean we have to use them"

"Sir, let me ex-"

"Ah, ah, ah" Jack held up a hand to silence his 2IC, "All I want to know is if anyone died?"

Sam let out a breath, "No, Sir"

"Was anybody hurt?"

"No, Sir"

"Oh…too bad…well, I'm sure you'll do better next time" he patted her on the shoulder and walked off.

"By the way" his retreating form had called, "You're all staying late to clean this place up"

An insistent horn blaring outside Sam's house interrupted their recollections.

"Jack's here" the teammates noted collectively.

They got up and reluctantly gathered their luggage together.

"So, Daniel" Sam said, "Did you ever forge General Hammond's signature to get what you wanted?"

"I never had to, the man spoiled me" the Anthropologist replied with endearing affection.

"General Hammond never forced us to accompany him on fishing trips" Teal'c added.

"He always listened to my technobabble" Sam sighed.

The three of them stepped out the door and met an impatient Jack O'Neill who was wearing an awful bright yellow shirt and orange cargo pants.

The teammates glanced at each other wearing the outfits their CO had suggested to them, each looking fabulous.

"Tell me" Daniel said, "Why in the galaxy do we listen to that man's fashion advice when he doesn't even listen to his own?"


End file.
